30 May 2024

I wanted to foreshadow what’s going on between the town and the dragon better in my Valia story, maybe even have her hit the “adventurer’s graveyard” before facing the dragon, so I restarted it. Unfortunately, I’m still adjusting to my new schedule at work, so I was not able to get much actually written…

Reports of the dragon terrorizing Birchwood, and the numerous adventuring paries who had lost their lives trying to defeat it, had reached all the way to the Guild’s headquarters. So when Valia left to investigate the situation, she expected to find a burnt out shell of a town, with what few survivors remained cowering for safety.

Instead, she discovered a bustling town, with clean, white walls and well-dressed men and women. Indeed, the townsfolk seemed far more prosperous than the reports said they should have been even before the dragon.

25 May 2024

Had some ideas for what Valia’s powers might be. I knew they had to be necromantic in nature, if she was going to raise the dragon, but in what form? How showy was she? How is there fight going to be visible, or at least noticeable, all the way from Birchwood? Once I came up with a couple ideas, I wanted to start over to weave that into the opening discussion. Overall, I’m quite happy with how this turned out.

…play with its food.

Fortunately for Valia, the darkness didn’t bother her, especially with the number of soul-lit ghost flames lingering about the place. It seems more people had attempted to slay this dragon than she’d been aware of.

As she approached the first ghostflame, a deep voice rumbled through the cavern. “Well, what have we here?”

Rather than reply, Valia touched the ghostflame and drew it into her core. The anger and fear she’d expected, but was that… betrayal, she sensed? Curious.

Scales scraped on stone deeper inside. “A lone adventurer, a woman, has the audacity to challenge me? Are you so eager for death?”

Valia ignored him at first, instead moving from soul to soul, absorbing the ghostflame. Nearly all of them carried that same tang of betrayal. Most curious indeed. A theory about the situation had finally started taking shape, but she’d need a bit more proof. She finally responded, “I have no intention of being the one to die today.”

A burst of fire flared from a far corner of the cave, almost blinding Valia. “What can an insignificant creature like you do?”

Valia cocked her head. This dragon was arrogant enough; maybe she could simplify the fight a bit? “The stories don’t even name you, dragon.”

After a few seconds, the dragon chuckled, shaking the cave to its foundations. “Clever. When I was younger, I might well have fallen for that sort of provocation.”

Ah well. It had been a long shot, anyway. She could have done a lot with its name; soul magic made nearly as much use out of names as the fae. But she hadn’t been relying on that anyway. Instead, she merely edged her way towards the next ghostflame, doing her best to keep some kind of cover between her and the dragon’s presumed location. “A serious question, then. Why is the town so carefree? Most other dragons would be terrified the townsfolk would figure out a way to steal their hoard.”

The dragon roared with laughter. “Woman, they are my hoard! For just a few trinkets and baubles, they turn on their own so quickly! Didn’t that guild of yours offer you a drink before you came up here?”

“Hm. I didn’t touch it, though.”

“Yes, I had surmised as much. You are far to coherent.”

That pretty much confirmed Valia’s theory. They probably had other contingencies to cripple parties, too, that just weren’t worth using on a lone adventurer. Their loss. Not that those were any more likely to succeed against her, but still.

After a few moments, the dragon spoke again. “You intrigue me. Not many would challenge a dragon alone, no matter their hubris. You are either driven by bloodthirst, or truly desperate, no? Either way, wealth or blood, I can provide.” the dragon lowered its head until it nearly touched Valia nose to snout. “What do you think? Won’t you join me?”

Valia allowed herself a wry smile. The truth seemed so impossible, he didn’t even bother to consider it. “I thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.” She shot a necrotic blast towards the dragon’s eye, then summoned the souls she’d gathered into an armor of ghostflame, just in time to counter the dragon’s breath.

24 May 2024

This… was way short. I really have no excuse. Just got distracted partway in, and never got back to it. I restarted the whole dragon scene the next day as I figured out how Valia’s powers might work.

“...I know what you are, girl.”

Shoot. Well, not like the simple solution could work every time. Valia kept a wary eye out, trying to pin down the dragon’s location. “I noticed that little town down there is in surprisingly good shape.”

“And why wouldn’t it be?” The dragon replied smugly. “They are mine. Most of my kin fail to realize how much more lucrative it is to draw wealth to you through a prosperous town than a ruined one.”

23 May 2024

This is part two of my story I started May 16, where she starts her face-off against the dragon. Somewhat inspired by the recent movie Damsel on Netflix, though Valia is, of course, in a very different situation.

It was not hard to find the dragon’s lair. Smoke trickled up constantly from the mouth of the cave, and there was that certain, baked-leather smell she always associated with them. Cautiously, she stepped inside.

Many people expected dragon lairs to be brightly lit on account of all the fire, but in Valia’s experience, for any well-established lair, that was rarely the case. Anything flammable had long since burned away, and with dragons’ truesight ability, there was little need for interior lighting. This dragon was no different, and considering the numerous pillars and hiding spots, this one seemed to enjoy playing with its food.

Indeed, not another fifteen minutes went by before a voice echoed out of the darkness, “Well, what have we here?”

Valia tried to pinpoint the source, but the dragon had designed his lair well. She couldn’t place it.

“Curious. All alone, girl?” the dragon taunted. “Was there no one else willing to die with you?”

With a snort, Valia shook her head. “I don’t need help to kill a single dragon.”

A flare of light burst off to Valia’s right. “What can an inferior creature like you possibly do to someone like me?”

That prompted a wry smile from Valia as she stalked after the glimpse she’d caught. “Like you? The stories don’t even mention your name, dragon. How terrifying can you possibly be?” It was a bit of a long shot, but if she could get his name… Well. Names had power.

Silence dominated the cave for several minutes. Then the dragon chuckled, shaking the cave to its foundations. “A clever one, aren’t you? I may have even fallen for it, were it not for the stench of death that clings to you.” Scales scraped on rock off in the distance. “Yes, I know what you are, girl.”

16 May 2024

This is from that same series of Tumblr posts that inspired both yesterday’s and the recent Rumpelstilskin stories. It went something like this: “You finished the quest and killed the dragon. However, instead of giving you the promised rewards, the townsfolk chase you out. So you do something no one’s dared do. You resurrect the dragon.”

Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.

Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.

She made her way to the adventurer’s guild, noting that the building was far more grand than the guild would require in a town of this size. The silence within only reinforced the feeling; instead of the crowds laughing and shouting among the tables that Valia was used to, the place was deathly quiet with only a couple of receptionists manning the desk.

Valia walked up to one, a younger woman with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. The reception flashed her a customer service smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here about the dragon.”

“Ah, yes.” The receptionist handed he a stack of paper. “The quest information is on top; underneath you can find the usual contracts, wavers, etc. Once you’ve finished filling these out, you’ll be free to pursue the dragon at your leisure.”

With a nod, Valia took the paperwork and retreated to a table near the window. The contract seemed fairly standard. The reward was a bit low for a case growing this infamous, though still within acceptable limits, at least as far as Valia was concerned.

Once she finished reviewing and signing everything, Valia took a few moments to stare out the window. A minute or two later, the receptionist came by and brought out a mug of ale. Valia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order this.”

“On the house. As a courtesy for any would-be dragon hunters. Unless you prefer something else? Water, perhaps?”

“It’s fine.” Valia turned her gaze back to the window. “Is this town really dealing with a dragon problem, though?”

The receptionist tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

There was a moment of silence before Valia replied, “It’s nothing.” She pushed the paperwork toward the receptionist. “Is there anything else you need before I head out?”

The reception quickly flipped through the stack. “Everything looks to be in order. Good luck on your hunt!”

Valia stood and slunk out the door, leaving her drink untouched.

20 April 2023

Well… there’s definitely issues here. The general vibe almost makes it feel like I’m pro-dictatorship and anti-democracy, which is not how I feel. So I’ll need to come up with another way to bring up Ferghus, and another way for Roland to start thinking how ill-prepared they are to defend themselves from the Conqueror and other, similar threats.

“And who would helm this coalition, then?” Roland demanded. “You? One of the other monarchs? Perhaps that princeling you dragged in out of the ocean? No, we will not leave ourselves vulnerable to some arrogant bastard declaring themselves our king or queen.”

“And what if you picked one of your own?” Moira leaned back against the table, arms folded. “Appointed them as your leader, even if only temporarily?”

Roland kept pacing. “And once we gave them that power, do you think they’d give it up? No! No, they would not.”

With a sigh, Moira pinched the bridge of her nose. “So you refuse the slightest risk of a monarch of any sort taking power.”

“We’ve managed without so far.”

“And what will your people do then, when a real dragon appears? When some foreign king or queen arrives in a storm of scale and claw and fang? When the Black Conqueror herself lands on your shores? Who will defend you? The living statue of a dragon holed up under the city?”

Living statue? What did Moira mean by that? Charles pulled away from the door and shot a questioning look at Arylwen. She shrugged; apparently she didn’t know what her mom meant, either. Charles grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s go find Bethany.”

Arylwen scrunched her nose. “Why her?”

“She’s from this city; he dad’s even on the Council, right? I bet she knows.”

Despite her scowl, Arylwen nodded. 

They found Bethany moping quietly in the grand library. [AN: I guess they rejected her earlier or something?] Arylwen sulked off to the side while Charles walked up to her. “Um. Hey, Bethany.”

Bethany jumped a bit, then hurriedly tried to wipe the tears from her face. “U-um, h-hi, Charles! What brings you here?”

Charles hemmed and hawed for a bit, and then finally asked, “Do you know anything about a living dragon statue under the city?”

Bethany blinked a few times. “Do you mean [Ferghus]?”

Both Charles and Arylwen cocked their heads.

“You know, Ferghus? The old king who set up the Council two hundred years ago? He’s not actually a statue, but he’s really, really old, and dowsn’t really move much any more.”

Arylwen’s eyes lit up. “How big is he?”

“Huge! I saw him once; he must have been as big as the whole palace!”

When he saw the smile that spread across Arylwen’s face, Charles’ stomach dropped. He’d seen that smile often enough to know it was never good news.

Sure enough, a moment later, Arylwen announced, “Let’s go see him! You can take us there, right?”

18 April 2023

This would take place in book 3 of the Majesty trilogy, assuming I get that far, after Charles and Arylwen are already married, and rulers in their own right. Shenanigans happen, and Arylwen needs to get help from the dragons. It occurred to me, before I wrote this, that my “realm of dragons” could be the Underworld/afterlife, and that opened a ton of possibilities I wanted to play with. Also, I like the idea of this section just for Arylwen showing up and being all different kinds of badass. Don’t really see that here, but I’ll get around to showing it off someday.

Also, so many names are in brackets because I haven’t settled on them yet. They’re liable to change; the country of Baldren, in particular, is highly likely to be named something else in the near future.

The stuffy silver dragon looked down his nose at Arylwen. “And will anyone vouch for Miss Arylwen to speak before the High Council?”

There was a rumble, and a massive dragon covered in stone shifted. “I will.”

It took a second, but Arylwen recognized old [Ferghus] from her time in [Baldren]; it was good to see the old coot again.

Then, from the back of the room, a female voice called out, “I, too, vouch for her.”

Arylwen’s blood froze, and she turned to see an all-too-familiar figure in deep black armor. [Agthere] still bore the wound in her chest where Charles had killed her a decade and a half earlier. If anything, she seemed to wear it with pride.

Arylwen’s first response was to lay into the conqueror with her claws, but even if [Agthere] weren’t one of the only people sticking up for her, Arylwen got the distinct impression most of the Council would frown at such a blatantly violent display. With some deep breaths, she barely managed to keep herself contained.

She couldn’t help feeling unnerved, though; she and Charles were among [Agthere’s] most ardent foes in the past, and had ultimately been the ones to kill her. So why was [Agthere] helping them now?

5 April 2023

I wrote this kind of late, and honestly I’m still not sure what to think of it. I was trying to lay the groundwork for Arylwen and Bethany to develop a friendship while they’re still kids, but I don’t think this approach is going to be the best. Moira will still intervene, but it will be more chastising Arylwen. I also don’t know that I fully agree with the logic here, and it definitely feels out of character for Moira, even if I’m having trouble pinning down why. Additionally, I don’t want to even imply that bullying is in anyway justified. It’s not. So yeah, this is getting scrapped. It does help me figure out some of what’s going on in Arylwen’s head, though. And I might just have to tone this sub-arc down, so she’s not actively mean or malicious to Bethany.

The little girl curled up tighter, wrinkling her dress. “I just… I want to be friends, too. Why is she so mean to me?”

Moira leaned forward, resting her arms on the balcony railing. She pondered the question for several moments. “You may not believe me, but you and Arylwen have a lot in common.”

Judging by the expression on Bethany’s face, she didn’t believe her. Moira had to chuckle at that. She said, “I’m guessing you didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, right? Spent most of your days around adults, all trying to teach you how to be a ‘proper’ lady?”

Bethany nodded. Moira continued, “It’s not so different for Arylwen. There’s not that many kids on pirate ships, and the small handful Arylwen did meet were all terrified of her, especially after hearing she’s a dragon.”

5 February 2023

I really enjoy writing these character interviews. I might have to write a book solely using them to tease out the story. Maybe later.

One thing I’m most worried about is how many of the posts recently paint Arylwen in a very negative light. That’s not too bad; she’s certainly flawed, and that’s part of her character arc. But she needs to have redeeming qualities, as well. I need it to be easy for the audience to forgive her for her faults, at least after she’s outgrown them. And in the current incarnation of the story, it seems like Bethany gets the worst of those faults. I will have to tinker with that a bit.

Getting to know Bethany was very fun, though. The girl needs hugs. She’s better than she thinks she is. Which, as I understand it, is almost as common a failing as assuming you are more amazing than you actually are.

I choose to meet Bethany in a garden. There’s a tea table set up in the middle, complete with an array of cakes and things. I give it a critical look. Am I being too easily influenced by common stereotypes? How might I avoid making bethany feel like a cookie-cutter “helpless princess” character? I snap my fingers, and the platter is reduced to a single slice of cake a piece.

Bethany comes out a moment later, in a very fine green dress. I stand and tip my head. As she approaches, I step around the table and pull out her chair, and wait for her to sit down before I return to my own seat.

She studies me a moment. “Are you being gentle with me, monsieur?”

“Perhaps. More than I would with some characters. Don’t read too much into it, though; I simply have not gotten the full measure of your character yet, that’s all.”

Her expression sours, and she opens her mouth to ask a question, perhaps about Arylwen and how I’d handle her. But in the end, she says nothing; it seems Bethany doesn’t have the full measure of my character, either.

I pull out a notebook and flip open to a clean page, pen at the ready. “You are closely acquainted with several notable individuals. Prince Elliott, the young dragon Arylwen… Even Charles is gaining quite the reputation as a hero.” As soon as I mention Charles, a blush creeps onto Bethany’s cheeks, but she stoically pretends not to notice. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to meet and develop a relationship with them?”

She takes a moment to reflect, and a soft smile slowly eases onto her features. “It would have been nearly ten years ago. Miss Moira came to my father about something–I would later learn it was this very resistance–and she brought them with her. Not that either my father nor I realized who Miss Moira was at the time.”

I decide not to mention that I still don’t know who Moira is. Or was, rather, before her “ascension” to dragonhood. …I need to figure out what terms people in-universe use for that phenomenon.

I prompt her to continue, and she says, “Elliott was quiet. Brooding. It made him seem handsome, in an unapproachable sort of way, but he scared me, too. Arylwen…” Bethany’s face fell, and she drew into herself. “She took one look at me, my dress and my shoes, and stalked off with a snort.”

It takes a moment for her to compose herself. No tears fall, and I’m not sure the glint I catch at the corner of her eye is even real, but it’s clear there are scars there. Then she takes a deep breath, and looks me in the eye.

“But Charles… Charles was different. He greeted me warmly that first day, and even after that, he would always notice me and drag me over to join them on their adventures. Oftentimes, Arylwen would get mad at him or say something mean to me, and they’d fight, and Elliott would have to step in and break them u.” She chuckled. “One time, Arylwen called me a pig. I think at the time, she felt that way about anyone who was rich, but it hurt, and I started crying. Charles got so mad he kicked her right in the shins. It didn’t matter that she was a dragon, or that he liked her.”

Then her smile faded, and she looked down into her lap. “I guess not much about Charles has really changed, has it? He’s still a hero, still kind to everyone, and I… I’m just a silly girl with a silly crush.”

I frown and look up from my notebook. “It is not silly.”

Bethany looks up at me, eyes wide. I sigh. “Even if it doesn’t pan out. Even if you know he and Arylwen get together, and then you watch it happen. Those feelings helped you get here, today, no matter how timid you think you are.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand. “Tell me, Bethany. Would a coward have been willing to slap a dragon across the face?”

Bethany has no response to that. I continue, “And do you think there is any dragon–especially Arylwen–that would just let that go? And yet here you are.”

“But that’s different. She and I are… Well, we, we know each other, and–”

“Do you know what makes Charles a hero? WHat it is that makes him brave?”

Bethany pauses, unsure what to say. I’m sure numerous ideas come up about why he’s a hero to her, but she just shakes her head.

“For me, at least, it is because even when he’s terrified, even when he thinks he’ll fail, he does it anyway. That’s how I found him, you know. As a little boy, scared stiff, certain he was going to be killed as he stood before the Pirate King. And yet, he went anyway, for Elliott’s sake.” A half smile falls to my lips. “Now, does that remind you of anyone?”

As I watch her expression, I can tell Bethany wants to protest. But she can’t find the words, as she chews on what I’ve said. I don’t know if she can accept it yet–I’m not sure she ever will–but at least she’s thinking about it.

“I wish,” I say, after some time, “that I could promise you a happily ever after. That Charles will see everything you’ve done, change his mind, and sweep you off your feet. But you and I both know that would be a lie.” I smile apologetically. “In fact, I know a bit too much, and you’ve certainly got your share of pain and heartache ahead. But there is joy, too. And the friendship you’ve developed with Charles and Arylwen is always going to be something you can fall back on.”

The tears do come, this time. Bethany turns away, perhaps embarrassed to be seen like that. I rise and check the time. “Well, I need to leave. Was there anything you needed? Anything else you wanted to say or ask?”

Bethany shook her head. As I pass her I pat her shoulder. “It will be alright. Even if that seems impossible now.” Then I walk away.

It isn’t until much later that I realize neither of us ate any of the cake.

31 January 2023

Between this and my interview with Bethany later, it doesn’t paint Arylwen in the best light. I promise she’s cool, and is a good person! I’m working on finding the scenes that show that the best.

So, for context in the scene below; this is happening in Book 2, roughly a decade (maybe a bit more) after the other Majesty scenes I’ve posted. The main cast is in their late teens or early twenties. They met Bethany sometime during Book 1, and she was a nobleman’s daughter, and very shy to boot. Arylwen wasn’t impressed. I don’t think she did anything actively malicious, but she definitely let Bethany know about her disapproval.

By the time of this scene, things have at least hit a status quo of some kind; I don’t know yet if Arylwen has merely accepted Bethany’s presence, or if she actually considers Bethany a friend. Regardless, it’s still a big deal that Bethany was able to blow up at her like this. Charles and Arylwen have been getting closer together, and Arylwen’s starting to freak out about it, since romance isn’t something easy to understand. She says something rude (I don’t know what yet), and Bethany reacts.

Arylwen was interrupted by a sudden stinging on her cheek. She looked in shock at Bethany–quiet, timid Bethany–and could barely believe the girl had slapped her.

Bethany certainly wasn’t timid now. She glared up at Arylwen, the corners of her eyes glistening. “Charles isn’t like that. You know Charles isn’t like that. And I’ll never forgive you if you ever say something so cruel about him again.”

Arylwen wanted to get mad. To return Bethany’s slap with twice the force, to scream and shout obscenities. But that prick in her heart she’d been ignoring held her back. What good would it do to get mad at Bethany, when Arylwen knew she was right? With some reluctance, Arylwen relaxed the fists at her side.

Bethany nodded once, like that’s what she’d expected. She turned to walk away, but first she said, “If you don’t want him, fine. At least have the courage to reject him properly. I’d be more than happy to finally have a chance with him, and I’m not the only one.” She began to walk off.

A spike of anger flared in Arylwen’s chest. “Are you calling me a coward?”

Bethany spun around and returned Arylwen’s glare with a steely one of her own. “Aren’t you? Charles is willing to lay everything down for you, and all you can do is belittle his efforts behind his back? What, exactly, is brave and noble about that, miss dragon?”

Once again, Arylwen was at an utter loss for words. This time, when Bethany stalked off, Arylwen let her go.

24 January 2023

Sorry about yesterday; I completely spaced it. I did get my writing in for the day, though, so I’ll be back on track after this.

This is a direct continuation of my interview with Moira in this post; I’d already figured out the last story was 90% BS, as I mentioned there, but I pulled a lot of good information this time. Though this early in the drafting process, any and all of it is subject to change. Also, this was the day when it felt like I finally snapped out of the funk I’d been in all month. Not really sure what did it, but I’m grateful. Still had ups and downs since then, of course, but it’s been much more manageable.

I start jotting notes, then I pause and glare at Moira. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”

She shrugged and flashed me a cheeky grin. I groan and rub the bridge of my nose. “Is it at least something that did happen to you, pre-dragon or was it completely off the cuff?”

“Who know?” She pointedly avoids my gaze and swishes her drink.

With a frown, I shuffle through my notes for other things I wanted to ask her. “Ah right. What can you tell me about dragon culture? That vale you mentioned.”

The drink stills in her hand. Slowly, Moira turns to look at me, eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

Hm. That is an interesting response. I hesitate only a moment before a wicked smile forms on my face. “Oh, I was considering sending Arylwen there in book 3, sometime after she’s become queen. I want to know what she’d be getting herself into.”

Moria’s eyes flash, and the next thing I know I’m slammed up against the wall with her claws around my throat. Good thing I’m not actually physically present; that seems like it would have hurt.

“Don’t you dare,” Moira hissed, “send my girl into that pack of arrogant, self-serving pigs.”

The version of me she’s holding collapses to dust. She spins around to see me leaning against the table, utterly unconcerned. “That’s very interesting.” Moira growls at me, but I ignore that and ask, “Were they all like that? Arrogant and self-serving, I mean?”

“No, you also had the ancient relics, that might as well have turned to stone for all the good they do.”

I raise an eyebrow, and for quite a long time, neither of us say anything. Then Moira sighs. “There was one–maybe more than one, honestly, but it’s not like I stuck around long enough to find out. He was… kind. But he wasn’t the most powerful, or charismatic. I don’t think most of the world’s ever heard of the country he ruled.” She looks away; it feels like she’s looking at something specific, far in the distance. “I couldn’t stand the way they treated him.”

“So you left?” When Moira nodded, I asked, “Did he come with you?”

Her expression softened into sorrow. “That would have required more confidence than he had left, I think. And he was never the impulsive sort, anyway.”

There. There it is. That fits, to me. I think that’s who Arylwen’s father is. And may have been what attracted her to Jasper’s brazen arrogance, too.

I put my papers away and look Moira in the eye. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure yet whether or not Arylwen does visit. I don’t know enough about the plot of the 3rd book yet to know if it’ll make sense.” I grin. “And if she does, well. Let’s just say you raised her well.”

Moira raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“One of them makes the mistake of referring to her as Charles’ ‘pet dragon’. During the ensuing duel, she doesn’t even bother going dragon; it stirs up quite the hornet’s nest.”

For the first time since I brought up dragon culture, Moira laughs. “Oh, that’ll be fun to watch.” Then her face falls. “Still, I would greatly appreciate it if she didn’t have to go at all.”

I shrug. “We’ll see where the story takes us.”

Moira grimaces, but she nods. “Was there anything else?”

With a shake of my head, I say, “That’s it for now. I’ll swing by again if there’s anything else.”

“Cool.” She signals the bartender, who hands he a six pack. Beer, I think. Not sure how I feel about that. She waves as she saunters off down the beach. “Take care of yourself, old man.”

I frown, but before I can protest I’m still in my thirties–and anywhere from a couple decades to several centuries younger than she is–she walks off, out of sight.

2 January 2023

Elliott’s still more hung up on royal pride than I think he should be. His shock at the difference between her demeanor and her implied heritage should still be there, but I think he’d express it differently in a less class-ist way.

Also, Arylwen is one of my favorite characters, at least as far as I’ve gotten to know her so far. She’s got this spunk to her, and absolutely will not take crap from anyone. It’s going to be fun, especially in the later two books.

A moment later, a figure with large, black bat-like wings glided down from the crow’s nest. When she landed, Charles and Elliott were shocked to see a girl their age, and even more when the wings folded into her back and disappeared. “What’s up, Mom?”

Captain Moira gestured to the two boys. “I’ve got a couple new cabin boys to work with you, straight from Jasper. Show them the ropes, would you?” She turned to the boys. “This is my daughter, Arylwen. I’ll be having her take care of you two, alright?”

Elliott still stood with his  mouth open, staring at Arylwen. Charles wasn’t much better, but he managed to pull himself together enough to offer a handshake. “Um, nice to meet you. My name’s Charles.”

Arylwen shook it halfheartedly, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Eh… Really, Mom?”

“Don’t judge the just by their looks; I’ve taught you that already. This one here used to be a prince.” She jabbed a thumb at Elliott, who had yet to regain his composure, then waved a hand at Charles. “And that one went down and talked with Jasper unannounced.”

Arylwen’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at Charles. “And you’re still alive?”

Charles nodded. “He’s, um, he’s really scary, but he think he m-might be kind of nie, too, in a way.” He bit his lip, then asked, “W-were those wings real? Are you really a dragon?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

At that, Elliott finally reacted. “But, that means you’re some sort of royalty! And yet, you’re dressed like [that], without any of the dignity a royal should have!”

Arylwen shrugged. “I don’t care about any of that crap. If you want details, ask my mom.”

24 November 2022

With a total of 2765 words, Thanksgiving was actually my most productive day this year for Nanowrimo. I was surprised, because my family had a fair amount going on that day, too. Not only that, but it took two hours or more to plan out the first half of the dragon fight with Gothel, during which time I got no words in, since it was all in the planning stage. Overall, I was quite pleased with myself after this.

I’ll probably add more specific notes to the sections below.

Rapunzel couldn’t believe her ears. “Wait… You’d still let me go?”

Isaac shrugged. “You’re as stubborn as I am. If you decide you’re going, you’ll go whether I let you or not. I just want to make sure you’re okay if you do.”

Rapunzel slumped back into the bed. She hadn’t expected that. She took a deep breath and winced, holding her side. Finally, she said, “It’d probably be a good idea to spend a few days, maybe even a week, for me to recover anyways. After that, if your - our - parents aren’t here yet, we can decide what to do then.”

Isaac heaved a sigh of relief. “Sounds like a plan.” He stood up. “I’ll let you rest, then. Do you want me to get you anything?”

Rapunzel’s stomach growled. “Breakfast would be nice. Or… whatever meal it would be right now, I guess.”

Isaac smiled wryly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

(After Phillip and Aurora have attracted the dragon, but before any dragon fights have started)

When Phillip returned a week later - and without Rapunzel, at that - Isaac was more than ready to tear into him. But the worry and urgency in Phillip’s expression made him pause.

Even before he’d fully dismounted, Phillip started trying to explain. “You’ve got… got to get everyone… out of here. Dragon… there’s a dragon coming.”

Isaac exchanged looks with Maleficent. “Dragon? Why? Where’s Rapunzel?”

Phillip put a hand on the wall to brace himself. He took a deep breath. “I think the dragon’s that fairy. Gothel?” At that name, Maleficent’s eyes narrowed, but she let Phillip continue. “She was hunting Aurora, so she used herself as bait and told me to come warn everyone.”

Isaac’s fists clenched. Logically, he knew they’d probably made the right call. But he still wanted to deck his friend for leaving his sister behind to face down a dragon alone. He looked over at Maleficent. “With your magic, would you e able to prepare any defenses? I want to keep the townsfolk safe while they’re evacuating, and, well…” He glanced over at the inn where his parents were located.

“I have a few things I can do about that.” Maleficent turned and got to work, though Isaac couldn’t be sure what she was planning.

Then he called General Conners over. “What do you suggest? I was thinking we should have half the men begin evacuating the citizens, and once they finish, have them set up within the village itself. I could join the other half outside the walls, to try and hold the dragon off as long as we could until the people are safe. We’d need ballistae for both sides.”

Conners saluted him and said, “My only concern, Your Majesty, is that it seems like you’re placing yourself too much at risk. We’ve already as good as lost the king and queen; what will happen to Lowenveil if you fall, too?”

Isaac grimaced. Then he shook his head. “I have to do this, General. For myself, if nothing else, and I think it’s important to show the people that I’m not afraid to stand with them when things get difficult.”

Conners looked like she had thoughts on the subject, but she kept them to herself. “Yes, sire!” She began shouting instructions, divvying up the soldiers into the two camps.

Isaac looked out toward the tower. If Rapunzel did come back, and she’d better, would she want to get involved in the fight, too? If Gothel was after her, Isaac wanted to make sure rapunzel was as far away from her as possible. Somewhere safe.

What if Rapunzel and Maleficent worked together? They were both witches, right? Isaac nodded to himself. That should work.

He watched with baited breath for any sign of his sister. He was so nervous, he almost didn’t react when a great wall of thorns sprouted up and surrounded the village, leaving only an opening at the gate.

Aurora didn’t recognize the village. Her father’s army had amassed outside of it, and somehow a great wall off thorns fifteen feet high had grown up all around it. Maleficent’s doing? Did she have a gift for growing plants?

She spotted Isaac and raced toward him. She could feel Gothel closing in on her, but Isaac gave a signal and a barrage of ballista bolts flew over Aurora’s head and impacted against the dragon.

Aurora pulled up next to Isaac. “I’m pretty sure that’s Gothel.” 

“I can see that.” He did seem to be looking at something specific within the dragon. A quirk of having Gothel’s eyesight, perhaps. “Maleficent’s taking care of our defenses; would you go help her?”

Aurora nodded, and walked through the gates in the hedge into the village. On her way, though, she got thinking. Would she get a better chance than this? Maleficent was busy, and no one else was around that would interfere.

She clutched her satchel, and headed for the inn. To her surprise, a second layer of thorns had wrapped themselves tightly around the building, even crawling up and covering the windows. She forced her way inside, only to find Maleficent…

It actually took me a long time to figure out what was going on with Aurora while she was trapped in time, or in the other dimension, or however you want to put it. At this point, all I knew for sure was that it ended with her speaking with the Tower. Then, I had an epiphany. If this happened because she messed with fate, isn’t it like she pulled herself out of alignment with fate? And since fate in this case means the things that happen to you, rather than what you will choose to do yourself (to distinguish between destiny), it means she can’t be affected by anything, but nor can she affect anything else.

…to get back?

She carefully walked past Maleficent and headed upstairs to the room they were keeping her parents. When she reached to open the door, however, her hand passed right through it, like nothing was there.

Aurora shuddered. Then she closed her eyes, braced herself, and stepped through the door.

There they were, asleep. Now, with time frozen, Aurora didn’t even have the rise and fall of their chests to confirm they were still alive. She steeled herself, and reached out to grab their threads of fate. Only… there was nothing to grab. Nothing at all.

Desperately, Aurora rushed over and tried to place her fingers on Hannah’s pulse, forgetting for a second that time had stopped. Only, it wasn’t even that Hannah had no pulse; when Aurora reached for her, her hand passed right through.

That’s when everything clicked for Aurora. She’d accidentally removed herself from fate; nothing could affect her, but she couldn’t affect anything else, either.

Dully, Aurora wandered around the village. She wasn’t sure how long she was at it; it was hard to tell time when nothing around you changed. It could have been fifteen minutes. It felt like days.

She mostly spent time in the room with her parents, though she often visited Isaac out on the battlefield, too. Aurora actually wished she had her paint supplies; she’d actually caught him at a good moment, and he looked quite kingly as he shouted something to his troops. She’d even found the perfect angle, where his outstretched arm framed dragon-Gothel as another round of bolts streaked toward her.

Eventually, though, she decided to go a little farther. She made her way back to the Tower, and was delighted to learn she didn’t get tired. Or hungry. Or randomly collapse because she’d pushed herself too hard. Soon, she started off running, and the feeling was so amazing she could almost forget how screwed she was.

Once she arrived, however, that all vanished. Because there was no more Tower. All that was left was half a wall, no taller than Aurora herself was, and a field of stone and rubble where Gothel, as a dragon, had burst out of it.

(First half of the fight with the dragon)

Isaac confirmed Aurora had made it inside, and then stared at the dragon. The dragon turned her head right and left, sniffing at the air; Isaac thought she seemed confused.

Then the dragon turned to Isaac and her nostrils flared. She roared and rushed toward him.

“Pikes!” Conners yelled, and the two squadrons of pikes, fifty strong each, charged forward from either side and halted her advance. Gothel swiped the claw of her left wing at them, but they managed to divert the attack.

From along the wall, the archers on either side of the gate fired a volley of arrows at the dragon. However, to Isaac’s chagrin, they all bounced off her scales. Isaac had seen those arrows punch through the finest steel armor; what the heck was her hide made out of?

The cavalry on either flank circled around, so they could charge in when an opportunity arose. Meanwhile, Isaac and his guards headed to the right, behind the second squad of pikemen.

Gothel tracked Isaac’s presence, flaring her nostrils now and then. Suddenly she lunged through the squad of pikemen to snap at him, and Isaac barely danced his horse far enough to the side to avoid her. He swung his sword at her face, but much like the archers before him, he was unable to pierce her hide.

“Have the archers retreat to the village!” he shouted, and Conners rushed to carry out his orders. Beside Isaac, the half of the second squadron of pikemen that had neither lost their weapon nor been critically injured split to either side of the dragon’s head and tried to spear her eyes; however, Gothel jerked her head up, beyond the reach of their pikes. The first squadron circled behind her to try to pin her down.

The four squadrons of spearmen repositioned, ready to rush in with their shields of need be. Behind them, two of the ballistae fired; one missed, but the one on the opposite side of the dragon from Isaac glanced a hit on her head, knocking her back a step.

Gothel roared and snapped her head the direction of the ballista, and Isaac saw threads of flame gathering in the back of her throat. His face turned white, and he screamed, “Fire! Get out of the way!”

The ballista crew got the message and barely managed to get away before a stream of flame turned the ballista to ashes. The squadron of spearmen between Gothel and the ballista, however, weren’t so lucky. They got their shields up in time, but many of the men at the front of their formation screamed as the shields in their hands superheated and burned the skin off their arms. A couple even fainted from the heat.

Isaac grimaced, and pulled back with the pikemen from the second squadron. That gave the first cavalry unit room to charge through, and drive their lances into Gothel’s flank. While none of them could pierce her, they were able to knock her off balance. This time, as well, Isaac finally noticed the streams of blue magic swirling under the dragons scales, and the way they focused wherever Gothel was getting attacked.

With a roar, Gothel swiped with her tail. While the cavalry had already cleared past her, the tail did smash into the other squadron of pikemen, and three or four of them flew into the air a ways.

Isaac scowled and ordered, “All pikemen, retreat! Spearmen and cavalry, cover them!”

Gothel cocked her head and turned back toward him. She roared, and Isaac caught a whiff of peppermint mixed with smoke and charcoal. She beat her wings, and the winds knocked him off his horse. He barely rolled out of the way before the claws on her right wing slammed down where he’d fallen.

Two more ballista bolts rocked into her, diverting her attention away from Isaac. She glared up at the one closest to her, and once again sucked in and prepared to spew flames.

“Here it comes again!” Isaac yelled. But before Gothel released it, the second cavalry unit charged in and drove her head up, and the flames blew harmlessly into the sky.

As they passed by, however, they got too close to Gothel’s tail, and with a single swipe she knocked a dozen horsemen off their horses.

A quick glance confirmed that most of the pikemen had finished retreating, other than those that couldn’t move. “Everybody, pull back!” Isaac called. “Behind the hedge!”

The cavalry rode off, and the spearmen locked shields and backed as quickly as they could toward the village gates. Isaac took one last look around, at all the dead and injured they had to leave behind, and cursed under his breath. Then he ran for the gate with everyone else.

This scene takes place just after Hannah and Frederick have sacrificed themselves. I was dissatisfied with the attention I’d given their grieving up to that point, and wanted to expand on it. The next two scenes are actually the bits I was most proud of today. I felt very happy with them.

Phillip knocked on Isaac’s door. When no one answered, Phillip cracked it and poked his head in.

The room was completely dark. No candles, and the shutters were closed, not that it mattered this time of night. Isaac himself sat on the bed, slouched over so his elbows rested on his knees, staring down at nothing.

“Yo! Still living?”

Isaac started. “Oh, it’s just you, Phillip.”

“Who else would I be?”

Isaac shrugged and returned to staring at the floor.

“What the heck are you doing all alone in the dark, anyway?”

Isaac clenched his eyes shut. “Ever since Aurora gave me that fairy’s sight, everything is… weird. I see things. Too many things. And none of it makes sense.” He flopped backward onto the bed. “Even without that, nothing makes sense.”

Phillip plopped onto the bed opposite him. “Wanna talk about it?”

For a while, Isaac couldn’t find the words. “It’s like… I thought it’d be different, you know? I’ve searched for her for years. My whole life, in a way. I thought it’d be so amazing when we found her, and everyone would be happy, and… Instead, Mom and Dad are all but dead. My eyes are going to drive me insane, and technically, I should’ve been blind. And Aurora… Rapunzel…” He snorted. “Well, whatever I was expecting from my sister, she is not it.”

He sat up and really looked at Phillip for the first time. “It’s like, the moment we found her, my whole life fell apart. Does that make sense?”

Phillip shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Things kinda suck.” He leaned back. “Still, though, if things suck this bad for you, how much worse to they gotta be for her?”

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it. You lost two parents, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t she just lose three? Maybe four, if you count the Tower. Heck, she blinded Gothel herself, and that was for your sake. It’s not like she wanted us to find her, either. You still have your home, your friends, everything else in life. What does she have?”

That hurt. Isaac didn’t want to admit it. He knew Phillip had a point, but didn’t he have a right to grieve, too?

Phillip let the silence rest for several minutes, then lay down to go to sleep. “It doesn’t gotta be right away. But sometime soon, you oughtta talk to her. You’re all the family either of you has left right now.”

Isaac didn’t get much sleep that night.

Aurora was heading outside when Isaac caught her. “Hey, I think we should talk.”

Now? Aurora sighed. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

They headed out to a little meadow not far from town. Aurora watched Isaac and tried to figure out what this was about. He kept fiddling with his hands, or pacing back and forth.

Finally got fed up. “Is this about what happened with Mom and Dad?”

Isaac blanched, then nodded. “I’m just… still trying to process everything.”

Aurora nodded. They waited a moment longer, then Isaac sat down and looked at his hands clasped in front of him. “A lot has happened since we met. You blinded the mother you grew up with. I see things that make no sense. Our parents are so deeply asleep, they might as well be dead. I guess…” He sighed and looked up at Aurora. “I wondered how you were holding up.”

Aurora rubbed her arms. “I… I don’t know.” She looked at Isaac. “I was supposed to be dead right now. I’ve lived most of my life coming to terms with that. And now… that’s gone.” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve screwed everything up, haven’t I? It’s like I told you. It would’ve been better just to leave me in my Tower.”

For a very long time, Isaac didn’t answer. It struck Aurora that he might actually agree. She’d screwed up his life just as badly as she had her own, after all.

Eventually, he sighed. “Rapunzel–”

Aurora flinched, and he paused. When he didn’t continue right away, she asked, “Actually… Would you call me Aurora from now on? I know what I said before, but…”

Isaac’s eyes widened, but his expression softened into a smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”

After a moment, Aurora spoke again. “Sorry. About getting so… angsty, I guess? I just… I feel lost.”

Isaac scooched around and hugged her shoulders. “Well, you’re stuck with me, now. Like it or not, you’re kind of the only family I have left.”

Aurora chuckled and poked him in the side. “You don’t suppose they offer exchanges on little brothers somewhere, do they?”

They both laughed at that, and just enjoyed each other’s company in the afternoon sunlight.

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Most recently updated draft of Rapunzel, the Sleeping Beauty (potentially including unposted content)

23 November 2022

Looking back over my notes, it seems this was right before I let myself relax about my old goal of 40k words, and made a new, more achievable goal to finish my draft before Nanowrimo ended. That helped things flow a lot better. This was also the day I realized I’d filled things in enough that I had to start making lists of what scenes or transitions I needed to write.

With the whole scenario around Aurora collapsing, I’m worried people will think I’m siding with Isaac, because he was “right” and Aurora did collapse. I don’t, necessarily. I think he kind of mishandled the situation; Aurora would have been much more amenable to the idea of staying put if he hadn’t approached it the way he had. This doesn’t excuse Aurora, either, of course. They’re both kind of dumb with this. But in a believable, “I can’t really blame them” kind of way. that said, I might make better use of the inherent time crunch of Aurora’s impending death to motivate her to at least see the castle once.

Then a wall slammed up into the dragon’s lower jaw from underneath, directing her attack away from Isaac and Phillip and providing them a shield. Aurora slid in from behind it and stopped beside Isaac. “I’m sorry, but nothing I’m trying seems to be working! She’s blocking my magic somehow!”

“Don’t worry, you’re helping plenty. Try to time your next attack just before the ballistae fire at her!” 

Aurora nodded, then moved away and tried to divert Gothel’s attention off of Isaac and Phillip. Isaac took the chance to look over his friend; he’d want a doctor to take a look just to be safe, but it seemed to be nothing more than a nasty concussion and a few broken ribs. At the very least, Phillip was still breathing.

Isaac heaved a sigh of relief and turned around just as a trio of ballista bolts dug into the dragon’s flank. The dragon screamed and swiped at Aurora in front of her, but Aurora diverted the attack with the Tower’s walls.

The blue humanoid core that was Gothel’s main self began backing away from Aurora, moving through the dragon’s body to somewhere closer to Isaac. Isaac quietly drew his sword and snuck closer, and when he got a chance, he drove his sword between the dragon’s scales directly into Gothel’s core self.

There was a momentary pause, and then the dragon began to writhe as blue smoke poured out from all its wounds. Isaac barely avoided the thing’s tail as it slammed the ground and buildings nearby.

Over the next ten to fifteen seconds, the form of the dragon shrank and faded away, leaving only a dark haired woman with Isaac’s sword in her back.

Isaac collapsed backwards and sat down next to Phillip, and just stared up at the sky. He couldn’t help the silly grin that spread over his face. They’d survived.

Once the dragon faded away and only Gothel remained, that’s when it really struck Aurora that this was real, it was really her.

Aurora walked over and pulled the sword out of Gothel’s back, then turned her body over so she could at least face the sky. Aurora’s heart churned. This was the woman she’d called “mother” for all those years. And she’d killed her.

Sure, Isaac was the one to actually do it. And at the time, Gothel was actively trying to kill Aurora, herself. But Aurora couldn’t help feeling guilty, and also that she’d just lost something very special to her.

She wasn’t sure if tears were mixed with the raindrops on her face. She wasn’t sure if Gothel deserved them if they were. Regardless, she wiped her face clean. “Whatever afterlife fairies might go to, if there even is one, I hope you’re at peace.” She closed Gothel’s eyes, then shifted so she held her knees tight against her chest.

Isaac watched her, and after a few moments passed, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Aurora shrugged. “I guess it feels like I’m a bad luck charm. Or worse. At least when it comes to parents. Frederick and Hannah are in a deep coma, and might never wake up. The Tower was ripped apart when Gothel came to chase after me. And as for Gothel herself, well…” She gestured to the corpse next to her. “It kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

(After escaping the Tower, as Gothel is turning into a dragon, in the version where they don’t see it happen)

The trip back was relatively uneventful. They spent most of the journey chatting about random thigs, especially the King Arthur novel series. Phillip recommended a few other novels as well, which Aurora intended to read once they got back home.

Aurora and Phillip could almost see the castle walls when a large shadow passed overhead. They looked up, and their eyes nearly bugged out when they saw the deep blue dragon soaring above them. “What the heck is it now?” Phillip said.

Then it landed a few hundred feet from them and began to swing its head left and right, sniffing at the air. When she looked more closely, Aurora realized that its eyes were milky white, and a horrible conclusion occurred to her. “Gothel?”

As soon as she spoke, the dragon’s head fixated on her. Only a moment later, Aurora and Phillip urged their horses to rush to the side, just before a blast of fire tore through the space they’d just been standing in.

“You run ahead and warn the city,” Aurora yelled. “Tell Isaac; he can summon the army and evacuate people or something!”

“What about you?” Phillip shouted back.

“I’ll keep her distracted,” Aurora replied. “It’s me she wants anyway!”

Phillip looked like he’d just bitten something extraordinarily bitter, but he nodded and wheeled his horse around. “If you die, Isaac and Maleficent are both gonna kill me. So don’t die!”

“Don’t plan on it!”

And with that, Phillip rode off.

The next hour or so felt like an eternity. Aurora pulled every trick she could think of to dodge, distract, and outrun the dragon-Gothel. Eventually, she decided her luck was running thin, and she made a break for the northern gates of the capital.

(After Aurora has left the Tower, on their way to the capital)

An hour later, though, and that tightness had turned to chest pain. Rapunzel started coughing here and there, though she did her best to hide it. Still, it wasn’t too long before Isaac pulled back alongside her. “Are you alright?”

Rapunzel faked a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be…” She coughed into her fist, then continued. “I’ll be fine.”

Isaac gave her a worried look. “Are you sure? We can stop and take a break, if you need us to.”

Rapunzel paused, then glanced down the road. “How far to the next town?”

Isaac looked over to Phillip, who replied, “It’s about a half hour. Maybe forty-five minutes.”

“I should be good until then.” Rapunzel started hacking again, then smiled weakly at Isaac. “But maybe once we get there, we should stop and rest for a while.”

“Alright.” There was clear doubt in Isaac’s eyes, but he didn’t press the issue, and pulled ahead again.

Now that he wasn’t watching for a moment, Rapunzel grimaced and clutched at her chest. “Thirty minutes, I only have to last thirty minutes.”

Her vision started to go white, but Rapunzel was so focused on staying conscious she didn’t notice. Then something hard crashed into her right side, and it took Rapunzel a moment to realize she’d fallen off her horse. The last thing she saw was Isaac jumping off his horse and running toward her, and then everything went black.

When she woke up, Rapunzel wasn’t sure where she was or what was happening. After a moment, however, she vaguely remembered falling off her horse; this must be an inn room somewhere. She sat up and looked around.

Isaac sat in a far corner of the room. He looked sullen, and bags had started to form under his eyes.

Rapunzel bit her lip. She was almost afraid to call out to him. “H-hey.”

Isaac’s eyes snapped to hers, and first shock, and then relief washed over his face. Then his expression hardened, and he glared at her; really glared, not the exasperated kind he’d given her during their banter while she was in the Tower. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Rapunzel wasn’t sure what to say. “I… I guess I didn’t want to worry you.”

There was a beat where he didn’t respond. Then he threw up his hands and said sarcastically, “Well, that worked wonderfully!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I even asked you about it. You said you were fine.”

“I know. I know, it’s just… I wanted to prove I could do it, you know? Even without Gothel’s magic keeping me ‘healthy’.”

Isaac gestured to her and the bed. “Well, apparently, you can’t.”

Rapunzel flinched and shrank into herself. She wanted to argue, but what could she say? Here she was. He was right.

Isaac saw the expression on her face, and his own softened. “I’m sorry. That’s not… It’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s the truth.” Rapunzel couldn’t quite keep the pout out of her voice.

Isaac scowled. He took a deep breath. “So what do you want to do? If you do still want to keep pushing forward, we’ll need to come up with a plan to make sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard. But if you want to stay and wait here, that works, too.”

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Most recently updated draft of Rapunzel, the Sleeping Beauty (potentially including unposted content)

22 November 2022

Battle scenes are both a lot of fun, and really difficult to write well, I think.

This one’s interesting, because while I was planning out the other half of this battle, the stuff that happened before Isaac headed into town, I came up with a whole bunch of other thoughts and ideas how this could go that might make it so much better. For example, what is Maleficent doing? Why is she prioritizing that over a freaking dragon, especially when that dragon is one of her personal enemies? So I plan on getting Maleficent involved. (In the first half I have a couple excuses ready, but they don’t hold up for the second half.) There’s a few other quirks, too. So while I am moderately proud of this scene, the final version will look nothing like this.

Isaac raced back through the main gate. How were they going to kill this thing? Could you even kill a fairy turned dragon?

As he ran, he watched in horror as dragon Gothel swooped overhead and crashed into the main office of the city watch, where one of the ballistae had been firing at her. The soldiers he’d stationed east of the gate began firing arrows at her but the vast majority bounced off her scales, and the few that didn’t only served to annoy her further.

Gothel roared, then summoned her fire breath into the city at the archers. Isaac didn’t have a good view; he hoped the soldiers had been able to find cover.

As Isaac kept running down the main street, a trio of ballista bolts flew and hit the dragon. In response, Gothel roared and beat her wings. Just when it looked like she would dive for the ballista on top of the merchants’ guild headquarters, though, Isaac called out, “Oi, you dumb lizard! Over here!”

Gothel’s head snapped to him; her nostrils flared as she tried to pinpoint his exact location.

Isaac turned off onto one of the side streets to the west, past a cobbler’s shop. A moment later, he was showered in shoes and splinters and Gothel burst through the roof and out the front wall to snap at him.

Her teeth missed him by inches when he fell, and Isaac rolled back to his feet and took off running. He curled around behind the tailor’s shop as the soldiers released another barrage of arrows, and another round of ballista bolts slammed against the scales on her back, cracking a few of them.

As Isaac watched, however, blue streams of Gothel’s magic flowed under the cracked scales and repaired them. Isaac cursed under his breath.

He didn’t have long to consider the implications, though, as Gothel unleashed her fire breath right at him. It torched the tailor’s shop, and Isaac had to back away from the building because of the heat.

He darted through an alleyway to try and regroup with the soldiers stationed in the plaza nearby. Gothel landed on the remains of the tailor’s shop, causing it to collapse, and after sniffing the air, she pointed her snout straight down the alleyway after Isaac. Her jaws opened, and Isaac could see the flicker in the back of her throat that signaled her flame breath.

[Aurora’s entrance]

Isaac felt so overwhelmed all he could do was laugh. When he could speak again, he said, “We can’t get through her scales. If you have some way to weaken her defenses or even divert her magic away from protecting herself, that would be amazing.”

“Can do.” Aurora nodded, and then began riding her bit of the Tower as it flowed around to Gothel’s other side, to try to lead her back toward the walls. “Oi! It’s me again! I’m over here!”

Gothel spun around, and her tail smashed through a couple of the nearby houses. For the first time during the battle, Isaac could understand what she was saying when she roared, “Rapunzel!”

Isaac ducked to avoid the debris, and made it to the plaza where the rest of the army had set up. He found Conners there, and told her, “Aurora is going to try to weaken the dragon’s defenses. On my signal, fire everything we’ve got at her.”

“Yes, sire!” As Conners motioned to spread the orders, another round of bolts slammed into the back of the dragon’s head, to no avail.

Isaac made eye contact with Aurora and nodded, raising hes fist. She nodded back, and her eyes began to flare purple as she reached out to Gothel.

Gothel roared at Aurora, and her magic condensed into a barrier between them. Recognizing the chance, Isaac swung his fist down, and a rain of arrows pierced Gothel’s hide, actually doing some damage.

Just then, on the other side of the dragon, Isaac saw Phillip rushing in to rejoin the fight. Isaac’s eyes widened and he shouted, “What are you doing?”

He didn’t know whether Phillip couldn’t hear him or just ignored him, but either way, he charged in and plunged his sword into the back of Gothel’s hind leg.

Gothel roared in pain, and slammed her tail into Phillip, smashing him into the building. She spun toward him as Isaac rushed to his side, and lunged toward them, teeth bared, before Isaac could even check his vitals.

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Most recently updated draft of Rapunzel, the Sleeping Beauty (potentially including unposted content)

18 November 2022

Fridays have generally been pretty good for me when it comes to writing during Nanowrimo. Even though I didn’t get as much as I had the week before, there’s still a lot I got done.

As you will see, I initially planned on having Gothel burst out of the Tower while they’re still there. Then I remembered that the capital is a week journey or more away, especially given Aurora’s health issues, and it didn’t feel realistic for them to keep dodging a dragon for that long. So I changed it to where Aurora wounds Gothel (with the Tower’s help… or such was the plan, at least), and it’s only later, when they’ve nearly arrived, that Gothel snaps and busts out her dragon form.

Of course, now I’ve changed things where they’re not even going to the capital, necessarily, but another village a day or two away. I haven’t decided how I’m going to change things because of that; no matter what happens, Aurora still wounds Gothel, but I might change it back so she bursts out right as they leave. That’s all business for after Nanowrimo, though.

Also, on the clip with Maleficent… I’d initially planned on that happening before her first duel with Aurora. And then somehow, in the short span of writing it, I forgot that, and started acting like it was after that duel, but before their next confrontation. And while I portray the Tower as female here, when I considered options - in particular the idea that the Tower might sacrifice themselves in someway for Aurora, whether to get her out of the frozen time state or to save her parents - I decided it would be better to have it be a male parental figure, this time. Hannah already represented the sacrifice of mothers, and I wanted to show that’s not a gender exclusive.

Aurora burst through the doorway onto the stairs. “Reception room, please!”

The stairs began moving up like an escalator, and the Tower created various walls and doors behind her to block Gothel’s way. Aurora took a second to catch her breath, then she began to head up the moving staircase.

Behind her, Gothel’s screams and shouts grew more and more bestial. Just as Aurora reached the reception room, Gothel screamed, “Shut the windows!”

Aurora groaned when the window sealed itself shut. She took only a split second to consider her options before she darted back up the stairs for her painting studio.

Every step Gothel took now shook the entire Tower. Aurora prayed desperately that the secret entrance Isaac had used was still there; when she saw the doorway in the back, she heaved a sigh of relief. Once she made it through the door, the stairs had been converted to a steep slide, and without a second thought Aurora hurled herself down it.

Gothel’s voice roared down the passage after her. “Even the Tower… The Tower’s helping her… She’s stolen the Tower from me!”

There was a great crash, and the walls around Aurora started to collapse. She screamed, but a moment later the Tower dumped her outside at the bottom. When she looked back, though, she was shocked to see a dragon had burst out of the top of the Tower.

When animals had started running out of the Tower, Phillip was confused. Then he recognized little Fenrir and scooped the puppy up; maybe Aurora had decided to let them loose, since she wouldn’t be coming back to the Tower?

A moment later, the Tower began to shake, and piles of books and things started coming out. Phillip hurried to pack as many of them as would fit onto the horses; in particular, he made a point to grab all of the King Arthur series.

Then he watched in fear and amazement as a massive dragon with dark blue scales burst from the top of the Tower, sending stone flying everywhere, a moment before Aurora rolled out of the base of it.

She seemed as stunned by the dragon as Phillip was, and one stone came within inches of crashing into her. Phillip snapped out of it and grabbed her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here!”

Aurora nodded and the two mounted their horses. Unfortunately, the dragon noticed them and they narrowly avoided a spurt of flame as they fled into the forest.

(After Aurora’s duel with Maleficent, while she’s stuck in broken time.)

Aurora sank to her knees at the sight. This was her fault, wasn’t it? After she’d wounded Gothel. The dam finally broke, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She’d deserved getting trapped like this. Everyone would have been better off if she’d never been born.

“Don’t cry, little one.”

Aurora gasped and spun around. A tall woman in a slender silver dress stood there, hands clasped in front of her. She had dirty-blonde hair, pulled back in a bun. Aurora had never seen the woman before, but something about her seemed so familiar. “Who are you?”

The woman’s smile turned a little impish. “You don’t recognize me?”

Aurora shook her head. The woman chuckled. “I can’t exactly blame you.” She gestured to the rubble all around them. “This was me.”

“You… wait.” Aurora’s eyes widened. “The Tower?”

“That’s right.”

“I… You’re alive!? I mean, I always knew you were somewhat alive, but not like this. Alive alive.”

Tower chuckled. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose.”

“How…” Aurora slumped back. After a moment, she asked, “Do you have a name?”

Tower shrugged. “It’s been so long. Tower works well enough for me.”

Aurora ran her fingers through her hair, still trying to process everything. The Tower looked behind her. “I see you finally had your hair cut. Properly, I mean, not just hacked off the way your brother did when you first left.”

“Yeah… yeah.” A small blush colored Aurora’s cheeks. “I guess it must have been pretty tiring, hauling all that hair around everywhere?”

“I was a tower. I can’t say I had any muscles that would get tired.”

That got a chuckle out of Aurora, but then she frowned. “What were you before? I mean, I assume you weren’t always a tower, were you?”

Tower shook her head. “No. But whatever I was before is so old, so distant and long ago, that I do not remember much of anything.” She tousled Aurora’s hair. “Not that I care much about that. Taking care of you has been happiness enough.”

That sent a jolt of pride through Aurora, though it soon faded. Auror curled in on herself and leaned against the Tower. “I don’t know why. I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible person.”

Tower frowned and looked down at her. “What makes you say that?”

So Aurora told her the story of everything that had happened since she’d left the first time. Of collapsing on the road, and facing the fact she was born sick. Of meeting her birth parents, and the way they’d sacrificed themselves for her. The way she felt guilty, since she’d never even tried to reach them before, when they’d been searching for her for so long. Of the ideas she’d had with fate-spinning, and the warning after warning both Maleficent and Isaac had given her. The way Isaac and everyone else in the kingdom were in the middle of fighting a dragon. All because of her. And how all of that had ended with her, here, trapped in a moment of time. 

“Sometimes, it feels like the world would be better off without me,” she concluded.

(Sometime after Aurora and Maleficent’s duel)

The hedge of thorns wasn’t just to keep Aurora out. No, Maleficent worked best in isolation, and this was the most natural way to her to block out the outside world. Even with Gothel rampaging around as a dragon just outside, Maleficent could focus on what needed to be done.

And she needed to focus; like she’d told Aurora earlier, fate-spinning was delicate work. And she would not let Hannah and her family suffer simply because Maleficent carelessly chose to clip a thread sixteen years ago.

As for what would happen when Hannah woke up… Maleficent would deal with that when the time came. Hopefully that fool girl would find a way back on her own; even Maleficent wasn’t sure she’d be able to save her if she couldn’t.

(Back to the chase in the Tower)

As she ran, Aurora noticed the lengths of her old hair running all along the stairway, and she got an idea. She hurried on to the paint room.

Gothel struggled to keep her emotions under control. Her thought flashed from that witch, the one who stole away her sisters, to Rapunzel. Then she shook her head. No, they were not the same. …Weren’t they?

She called out again, “Rapunzel! Come out, come out, wherever you are. Everything can be alright again! It must. So it’s not the time for games, dear!”

Soon, she arrived at the door to Rapunzel’s paint studio and heaved a sigh of relief. Of course! She was just working on a new project. Everything would be the same, everything would be back to normal. Rapunzel would still be her Rapunzel, not that witchy one.

She opened the door and sniffed; yes, Rapunzel was here. When Gothel stepped into the room, though, something, it felt like a rope or a bundle of string, pulled across the doorway, and Gothel tripped.

Above her, Rapunzel’s voice was firm. “My name is Aurora. My mother gave it to me. And don't you forget it.”

Then something solid struck the side of Gothel’s head, and she fell unconscious.

Gothel awoke back in her bed several days later. The Tower had prepared food for her, but she had no appetite.

“My name is Aurora.”

Gothel flashed back to an image of a baby, and a king and queen. Aurora. Then that witch, from all those years ago, had appeared.

“No! No! Stop!” Gothel clutched her head and tried to shove the memories back down. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to see Johanna, now wrinkly and gap-toothed, giggling like a madwoman. She didn’t want to see the drool dripping form the corner of Agatha’s mouth, or Laura cowering in the corner at the slightest sound.

“My mother gave it to me. And don’t you forget it.”

No. No, that can’t be right. She was Rapunzel’s mother, wasn’t she? Hadn’t she looked after her all these years?

Or had she? Memories started coming again, more recent ones. Times when Rapunzel and the Tower had calmed her down when she had an episode. The way Rapunzel never came to her when she needed help; she went to the Tower. Even when Rapunzel was a babe, when Gothel didn’t know what she needed, it was the Tower that fed her, changed her diapers, taken care of the child.

The Tower. Gothel scowled. It was supposed to do her bidding, and yet with a wave of her hand Rapunzel had summoned doors and walls to bar her way. Then she remembered the boy - Isaac. How had he gotten in? How had he landed safely after Gothel threw him out?

Gothel’s mil-white eyes widened. It was the Tower. The Tower had turned against her; it had chosen Rapunzel over her.

The images of Maleficent and Rapunzel blended together again, and this time Gothel didn’t fight to keep them separate. Everyone betrayed her. Even the Tower. She let out a roar, and began to transform.

(Shortly after leaving the Tower the first time)

“Are we almost there yet, by any chance?”

Isaac and Phillip shared a look, then stared at Rapunzel, incredulous. “You really never have set foot outside your Tower, have you?” said Isaac.

“What? I thought it was a perfectly reasonable question,” Rapunzel said, growing defensive. “You two have been going back and forth over the last two weeks, so it can’t be too far.”

“Oh, you mean the inn,” Phillip said. “Then sure, we’re close. It’s only about another hour or so.”

Rapunzel almost stopped in her tracks. Another hour? The inn? And that was considered close?

Isaac glanced at her and sighed. “Look, the castle is about a week away on foot. If we can get you a horse in the village, that’ll cut it down to four days or so.” Then he narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “Except… you’ve never ridden a horse, have you?”

Rapunzel looked away. “So what if I haven’t?”

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14 November 2022

Whenever I get ready to do something official, I really need to study up and plan out better how to portray all the issues Gothel’s got going on. I tried to show a hint of her delusions and hyper-fixation on Rapunzel, but I don’t know if those are actually symptoms to anything real. And I’d rather not handwave everything off as “she’s a fairy, they don’t have to work the same way”. That just feels cheap.

Also, now that I’m writing the events that take place around that time, the scene with Aurora running from the dragon is very much outdated. None of it wound up happening that way. I’d still like to keep pieces of it, though.

…down the blue fairy.

Gothel glared at the two as she approached them in the room they’d booked at the inn. “You were messing with my spells; you tried to get to Rapunzel. Why?”

Both Lena and Frieda vehemently shook their heads as they cowered in the corner. Frieda said, “N-no, we weren’t there for Rapunzel! It wasn’t our fault, anyway! We opened a tiny pathway, sure, but as soon as we recognized it was your magic, Gothel, we put it back and left!”

Lena nodded. “And we only did that much because the prince forced us to!”

Gothel looked confused when Frieda said her name, but as soon as Lena mentioned the prince, her eyes narrowed. “What prince?”

Lena and Frieda exchanged glances. Did the two boys manage to slip past her somehow on the way in, then? “Prince Isaac. You know, from Loweveil? He was looking for his sister Aurora.”

For a long moment, Gothel just frowned at them, her brow furrowed. Then everything clicked into place, and her eyes went wide. “They’ve come to take her away from me!”

She turned and rushed out of the inn, and all the butterflies she’d used to track Lena and Frieda vanished. The two fairies looked at each other, and couldn’t do anything except laugh weakly as they lay there on the floor.

As soon as he got back to the tavern, Isaac sent letters to both his father in Lowenveil’s capital and his mother, who’d gone to Venwald to visit Queen Maleficent. Over the next two weeks, he visited Aur… Rapunzel every day. Some days he brought Phillip with him; other times he didn’t.

Frequently, they chatted about whatever came to mind. Sometimes he (tried) to help her take care of the animals; other times, he watched her paint in silence. He was awed by her talent with a brush; she might be one of the best painters in the world soon, if she wasn’t already.

One day, however, as they chatted in the lake room, a tiny pillar popped out of the ground with a blinking yellow light atop it. Rapunzel’s face went pale, and she turned to Isaac. “You need to hide! Now!”

“Why? What is it?”

“Mother’s back!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her up the stairs.

“Shouldn’t we just talk to her, then?”

Rapunzel shook her head. “Even on a good day, she doesn’t react well to mentions of my old family. She was already unusually agitated when she left; who knows how she’d react if she actually saw you.”

She opened the door to the paint studio. “Stay in here. Mother doesn’t typically come in here unless I’m working on something.” She knocked on the wall and addressed the Tower. “Once the coast is clear, please help sneak him out of here.”

She turned to leave, but Isaac caught her wrist. “When can I come back? I’m not leaving you alone here forever, and you still need to meet Mom and Dad.”

Rapunzel bit her lower lip. “I’ll give you a signal. Now, hide!”

When Aurora had rushed in on horseback, Isaac had just a split second to feel relieved she was safe before he wondered how she could attract so much trouble so quickly.

How else could you describe being chased by a dragon, after all?

Or, at least it looked like a dragon at first. When Isaac looked closer, though, it was almost as if he could see into the dragon to its center, where a blind woman in a blue dress howled and cried.

“Is that… Gothel?” he wondered aloud.

“Well perceived.”

Isaac spun around to find Maleficent with a grim expression on her face. He turned back to the draconic Gothel. “How is she able to track my sister’s location so well? Isn’t she blind?”

“There are other senses beyond just sight. I’ve heard dragons have quite the keen sense of smell, for example.” Maleficent made a wry smile. “I suppose that is proof the princess does not think the way I do. I would have taken everything and crippled her.”

Isaac didn’t reply. Instead, he ordered his men to arm the ballistae, and got ready to let Aurora in through the front gate.

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